


That this night might stay yesterday

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Also there is an extended white elephant scene that goes on for way too long, Alternate Universe - College/University, It's really just fluff, M/M, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5522906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve only got six more days before break starts, and then a month before John leaves and Alex doesn’t see him for an entire semester. Alex can manage to tell John Laurens he’s in love with him in six days.</p><p>Written for the 2015 Hamilton gift exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That this night might stay yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, lohn-jaurens! I've never actually written a college au before, so I just used my own experiences (can you tell all of my friends are going abroad?)
> 
> For clarification, Ellie is Hercules Mulligan's real wife, Elizabeth, but I shortened her name to hopefully eliminate confusion. Also in case white elephant exchanges aren't a thing in other countries, basically you give a really awful gift and everyone goes around and picks one, and you can steal other people's gifts and make them pick a new one.

**From: Laurens of Arabia**

can’t wait to get out of this hellhole tbh

**From: Alexander Dumbass**

i still cant believe youre leaving me

youre all leaving me

even fucking jefferson is leaving me

**From: Laurens of Arabia**

I’m going to france, not peru or something. we can still talk

**From: Alexander Dumbass**

yeah but how will i cuddle you in france

 

**From: Laurens of Arabia**

I’ll be home in 2 hours and you can cuddle me then

 

Alex powers his phone down and tosses it on the bed, sinking lower in his desk chair. They’ve only got six more days before break starts, and then a month before John leaves and Alex doesn’t see him for an entire semester. He’s running out of time.

Alexander Hamilton is not a coward. He’s not. He’s just hedging his bets. Which, yeah, he never does, but it doesn’t mean he’s stalling. It just means that this is important and he doesn’t want to do it wrong.

Six days.

He can manage to tell John Laurens he’s in love with him in six days.

 

“I feel like it’s kind of cheating because I already know French, you know? I mean it’s definitely part of why I’m going, but it still feels like cheating,” John says over Sunday brunch. It’s almost surreal in the normality of it all, like their group won’t be several people short when they return from break. Adrienne and Eliza are giggling about something at the far end of the table, and Mulligan whispers something to Ellie as he steals a forkful of John’s hashbrowns. She laughs quietly and glances over at John, and Alex wonders if he’s the only one who feels this upset about the change.

“I think people generally learn a language with the intention of eventually going somewhere they can use it,” he says. He wishes John would stop bringing it up so he wouldn’t have to think about it all the time. He would probably still think about it all the time, but it might be better.

John shrugs. “Yeah, but I think going somewhere completely new and having to adapt would be fun. Does anyone have printing money left who wouldn’t mind me printing several hundred pages of invertebrate anatomy?”

“Just wait until _literally tomorrow_ when it’s free printing,” Mulligan says. “And anyway, no. You’d be surprised how many pdf patterns I print.”

“You can use mine, all I ever print are spreadsheets,” Alex offers. He hopes it doesn’t sound overeager, but he gets the suspicion that everything he says to John these days sounds overeager.

“I don’t see why you want to go to France,” Lafayette says. “Everything good about it is already here.”

“You flatter yourself,” Mulligan says. Lafayette punches him on the arm. “Ow. But it’s true that everything bad about France _will_ be there.”

John groans. “How did I manage to wind up in the same program as Thomas-fucking-Jefferson? Alex, come with me. I can’t deal with his pretention and shitty politics on my own.” He shoots Alex a beseeching look and Alex’s heart melts. He would do anything for that look if he could, even though he knows it’s a joking request.

“I wish I could. Poli-sci econ double majors don’t get to go abroad.”

“That’s a lie, Alex,” Angelica calls. “You just wanted to take Washington’s Constitutional Law class. Besides, John, you don’t get to complain about Jefferson. _Some_ of us are stuck with James Madison.”

“I would honestly prefer Madison,” Mulligan says.

“That’s because you’re a man and have never experienced his boundary-less attempts at flirting,” Angelica says. Eliza and Adrienne nod agreement.

“Jefferson is not that bad if you ignore his politics,” Lafayette says, throwing a protective arm around Adrienne’s shoulders.

“Again, you are a man.”

Lafayette shrugs. “Maybe true, but John is also a man so he should have no problems.”

“You only say that because all he ever talks to you about is his giant France-boner,” John says. “Some of us have to listen to his bullshit states-rights rhetoric.”

“Wait, really? He never mentions that to me. I’ll have to ask him about it,” Angelica says, intrigued.

Adrienne makes retching noises. “Why would you subject yourself to that?”

“He does it to me because he thinks we have some sort of Southerner bond,” John says, making a face. Alex resolves to have a talk with Jefferson. Anyone who pays even the slightest bit of attention knows that John despises South Carolina and would rather not talk about it, so either Jefferson is oblivious or, more likely, he’s just a douche.

“Maybe now he’ll switch to the supremacy of French culture,” Lafayette says.

“Just what I always wanted.”

Lafayette laughs and John joins in, ruefully, and Alex watches him and _wants_. He wants to keep that laugh with him over the break and into the next semester. He wants to tell John how he feels. He has no idea how to do that.

* * *

Alex is studying with Lafayette in the library – or trying to study, which in this case means thinking about John and not getting anything done. His political economy final is on Wednesday and he’s nowhere near prepared, but he can’t seem to focus for any length of time. All he can think about is the fact that John is going to France, where he’ll meet some beautiful French boy and that will be that. Alex will have missed his chance.

Across from him, Lafayette shoves his laptop to the side with a sigh and fixes Alex with an accusatory stare. “Alright, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Alex, you have been staring at that same page of notes for ten minutes. What is bothering you?”

Alex puts his highlighter down and sweeps his hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s nothing. I’m just being weird.”

“Is it about John?”

“I- what?”

“Every time anyone talks about John leaving, you go quiet,” Lafayette says. “You don’t need to worry, you know. He won’t find someone else.”

“How do you- I mean, what do you mean?” Alex says, blushing in spite of himself.

“You’re worried he’ll find a boyfriend in France, yes?” Lafayette says, as though that’s a perfectly okay thing to say and he hasn’t just broadcast Alex’s feelings to the whole library. He rolls his eyes. “No one is listening.”

“You don’t know that,” Alex mumbles, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“Not everyone is as distracted in their studies as you.”

“It doesn’t matter if he gets a boyfriend, anyway,” Alex insists. “I don’t have some sort of claim on him.”

“You could,” Lafayette says. Alex hopes his face conveys what he thinks of that suggestion. It must, to at least some degree, because Lafayette shrugs and pulls his laptop close again. “Suit yourself.”

They work in silence for several minutes, Lafayette presumably actually studying and Alex staring blankly at his notes. “It doesn’t matter, anyway,” he mutters. “He doesn’t like me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Lafayette says.

“Wouldn’t be so sure of what?” Mulligan asks, appearing behind him with John in tow. He drops his papers and laptop onto the table and pulls out the chair next to Alex. “Alex is always sure of himself.”

“Hey, I was going to sit there,” John says. Alex tries not to read into it.

Mulligan sits down next to him anyway, and Alex suppresses a pang of disappointment. He and John live together; they see each other every day and spend most of their time at home curled up on the couch together. He can survive one library study session without John by his side.

“Alex thinks he will fail his final,” Lafayette says smoothly. Lying comes naturally to him and Alex envies it, wishes he were so good at hiding his emotions – and his opinions, though he’d never say that where people could overhear. Burr would have a field day.

He especially wishes he could hide them now, when all he wants to do is drag his chair over next to John’s and pretend to study there instead of six feet away from him. He sinks lower in his seat and hopes no one notices his blush. He has never felt more pathetic in his life, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to get any less embarrassing any time soon.

“Oh, bullshit,” John says, settling in next to Lafayette. He looks at Mulligan’s seat for a moment, and it almost looks wistful. “Alex has never failed an exam in his life. He can bullshit his way through anything.”

“You can’t bullshit numbers,” Alex says, shoving his notes aside. “Anyway, I can’t study right now. I need a break.”

“We just got here,” Mulligan protests.

“I’ll quiz you,” John says, even though he also just arrived.

Alex shakes his head. “My brain doesn’t have room for any more numbers.”

“Let’s go get coffee and I’ll quiz you over that,” John suggests.

“John, you have a final tomorrow,” Lafayette says, but he’s grinning for some reason.

John looks guilty. “I’m prepared.”

“You were just saying on the way over that-” Mulligan starts. John gives him a significant look and he shuts up, and Alex feels like he’s missed something.

“I’m prepared _enough_ ,” John amends. “Come on, Alex. Let’s go.”

Alex wants very much to accept, political economy be damned, but Mulligan is grinning at him and Lafayette keeps sending him expectant looks, and he can’t. Coffee would be the perfect time to tell John about his feelings, but he can’t do it.

“I should really just man up and do it,” he says. He doesn’t know if he’s talking about studying or confessing.

“Come on,” John says, puppy-dog eyes in full force. “Now you’ve got me wanting coffee and I don’t want to go alone.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Of course you should. You’re not getting work done anyway,” Mulligan says. Alex glares at him and he winks in response.

“I should-”

Lafayette fixes him with a commanding stare. “Alex, go get coffee and stop whining to me. I can’t study with you moping so loudly.”

“I mean-”

“Go.”

Alex knows when he’s beat. He sticks his tongue out at Lafayette and Mulligan, who each give him an encouraging thumbs up, and lets John drag him towards the library café. He can manage to get through this with the fewest awkward stumbles possible, he’s sure. It will be fine.

He is forced to reconsider that when John turns to him while they’re waiting for their orders and says, “so what do you think?”

Alex blinks, dragging his gaze away from John’s lips. “What?”

John laughs. “Were you paying any attention at all?”

“I was! My eyes were just unfocused.”

“On my mouth?” John asks. It’s playful, but there’s an undercurrent of something that makes Alex nervous. If John has noticed this, maybe he’s noticed all of the other ways Alex looks at him. Maybe he’s teasing Alex.

Well, Alex can tease right back if it means John won’t suspect.

“You do have very nice lips,” he says, shoving John playfully. John staggers a little, even though it was a light shove, and he doesn’t laugh like Alex expected. He just stares like he can’t believe what he heard. Alex immediately regrets saying anything. John is obviously uncomfortable now and it’s Alex’s fault, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“Thanks?” John says, finally, still looking at Alex like he’s trying to figure him out.

“Don’t mention it,” Alex mumbles.

They don’t talk as they collect their coffee and head for the one empty table in the café. It’s one of the tall ones along the wall that are only really meant for one person but have two chairs anyway, which means Alex and John are about to be in very close quarters. At least they’ll have studying to distract them.

Alex stops in his tracks.

John walks a few feet before he notices that Alex has stopped. “What is it?”

“I forgot my notes.”

John frowns. “Oh. Well we probably weren’t going to get much studying done anyway-”

“I should go get them,” Alex blurts.

“We’ll lose the table, then,” John says. “Besides, I’d much rather just talk to you.”

Alex shakes his head. He’s already made this interaction awkward enough by talking about John’s lips; he’s not about to mess it up even further. “You can hold it. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” John says. He sounds a little bewildered and a little hurt, and Alex almost feels bad enough to change his mind.

Instead, he runs away, like a coward.

Lafayette and Mulligan look up when he nears their table. “I forgot my notes,” he says, by way of explanation.

“You’re really going to study? Oh my god, just talk to him,” Mulligan complains when Alex just shrugs.

“I did that already and it didn’t go well. This is safer.”

“Suit yourself,” Mulligan says, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. Alex scowls at him. He doesn’t need Mulligan’s judgement. He’s fine on his own.

He grabs his papers and turns away with an “I will, thanks.”

“You are running out of time, Alex,” Lafayette calls after him. Alex ignores him.

* * *

Alex comes home from his political economy final drained and ready to pass out, but they’re having company, which he conveniently forgot.

So instead of sleeping until he can think in anything other than statistics, he’s cleaning the house in preparation for everyone coming over for a white elephant. He’s cleaning right alongside John, and somehow they still haven’t managed a real conversation. Every time John tries to start one, Alex says something embarrassingly honest and they both look away from each other and move on. It’s exhausting.

Thankfully, their friends start arriving just before three, and the growing pile of hastily-wrapped gifts provides a good distraction from the uneasy tension between them. Alex watches the rest of his friends forming a loose circle on the couches and floor around the presents and hopes he can get through this hour.

It’s to the point where when Adrienne inserts herself between Alex and John in the circle, both of them breathe sighs of relief. Alex, of course, is then left agonizing over what John’s sigh means. It could mean that John knows how Alex feels and is glad not to be sitting next to him, or, more likely, it could mean that Alex has been acting strange and John doesn’t want to deal with another hour of deliberately not touching even though they’re right next to each other.

Adrienne notices the tension – like everyone else in the room, Alex is sure – but all she says is “am I interrupting something?”

John visibly shakes off whatever he had going on and smiles at her. “Not at all. Come sit between me and mister mopey over there.”

Alex frowns, then realizes he’s frowning and makes an effort not to. “If I’m in a bad mood it’s from overexposure to you,” he jokes, but it falls flat. John’s smile dims and goes forced, and he pointedly keeps his gaze on Adrienne as she sits down rather than responding. Alex feels awful.

He must spend more time looking at John and feeling bad than he thinks, because there is the sound of tearing next to him and then laughter, and he looks over to see Mulligan holding a sheaf of papers in dismay.

“And I put so much effort into my gift,” Mulligan says mournfully, leafing through the papers. “Really, Alex?”

“That’s why you give a shitty gift,” Alex says, mostly on autopilot. He still feels bad, but John is laughing now so at least that’s better.

“What is it?” Ellie asks, craning her neck to see across the circle.

“I know what it is,” Eliza says. “I bet it’s that essay Alex wrote when he had that horrible fever and got an extension but he turned it in anyway and got a bad grade.”

Alex nods. “It’s the only essay I’ve ever failed.”

“Great, I’m holding a piece of history,” Mulligan grumbles. “When you’re president maybe I’ll auction it off.”

“Please, Mulligan, immigrants can’t be president.” Alex goes for the present closest to him, because any other present would require leaning into the circle and consequently closer to John, and he can’t do that. It’s soft and a little lumpy but expertly wrapped, which means it’s Mulligan’s.

That conjecture is swiftly proven true when he unwraps it to find a small stuffed cat. “Oh my god, Mulligan, did you make that?” someone says. Alex strokes the cat.

Mulligan shrugs. “I had some extra fabric lying around.”

“His name is Alexander Hamilton the Third, after his father, Alexander Hamilton Junior,” Alex announces, cradling the cat.

“How did a real cat give birth to-” Eliza says.

“Don’t ask questions. He is the spitting image of his namesake, how else-”

“I dunno, he’s a lot more handsome than you,” John says. “Cat-you, I mean. Real-you is obviously more-” He cuts himself off, looking embarrassed. Alex wants to know how he would have ended that sentence.

“…it’s a stuffed cat,” John finishes, not looking at Alex. Adrienne hides a laugh behind her hand.

“Well I will take the handsome cat and leave the handsome man for you, John,” she says, reaching over to pluck Alex Hamilton the Third out of Alex’s hands. John makes an indignant spluttering noise that sounds like the vocal manifestation of Alex’s current feelings.

Alex tries to keep his voice even when he says, “oh come on!” but he’s not sure he succeeds, because John gives him an odd look and stops spluttering. Alex doesn’t know if that’s good or not.

Adrienne hugs the cat closer. “Rules are rules. You can’t have been expecting to keep that. Go open another one.”

“I was hoping people would see my rightful claim to it and respect that,” Alex grumbles. He pushes himself off the floor and grabs the gift with the nicest wrapping paper, because he deserves it. “I’m going for this one.”

He hears stifled laughter from Angelica and Eliza’s direction and pauses, grabbing something wrapped in a shopping bag instead. “On second thought, I’ve always thought it’s what’s inside that counts more than the wrapping.”

“No no, open that one!” Eliza says, laughing.

“I can promise you that what’s inside that one is just as great as the wrapping,” Angelica says. Alex rolls his eyes even though she can’t see him do it and picks up his original choice. It’s heavy and cylindrical, and knowing Angelica, it’s going to be hideously embarrassing. It’s probably a sex toy.

“I thought it was supposed to be a surprise who the presents were from,” he says as he carefully unwraps it, taking as long as he possibly can to ensure none of the paper rips just to spite them.

“It’s not going to be a surprise once you open it so I doubt it matters,” Angelica says.

Mulligan flops onto Lafayette’s lap with a groan. “Come _on_ , Alex, just open it. Some of us have places to be.”

“I’m saving the wrapping paper so I can reuse it,” Alex says, primly. Mulligan snorts.

“Sure.”

“You are free to leave whenever, Mulligan. You have your gift. My lap will be fine without you,” Lafayette grumbles, shoving ineffectually at Mulligan’s shoulder, but Mulligan has put all of his weight on Lafayette’s legs and just grins up at him.

“I’m holding out hope someone will steal it and I’ll get to pick something else.”

“ _I_ will steal it if it means you’ll stand up.”

Alex clears his throat. “I know you’ve all been waiting patiently--”

“Just fucking _open it_!”

Alex grins at Mulligan and pulls the completely un-ripped paper away. “Is this--”

“It’s from Australia,” Eliza says innocently. “It’s a wine holder.” Beside her, Angelica is trying very hard not to smile and failing.

John snorts and covers his hand with his mouth. “You’re giving it to him? That’s poetic.”

Eliza smiles and shrugs. “It felt less passive-aggressive than giving it to him as his actual present.”

“You can’t have known I’d choose it!” Alex protests.

“Please; we dated for two years. Of course I knew you’d choose it,” Eliza says.

Mulligan raises his hand, passing dangerously close to Lafayette’s nose on the way up. Lafayette snaps his teeth at it. “Could someone maybe explain for those of us who weren’t here last semester?”

“Washington gave it to Eliza as a sorry-you-got-cheated-on present,” John says. Alex whacks him with the wine holder. “What? It’s true.”

“It was a congratulations-on-declaring present,” Eliza says. “It was just unfortunate timing.”

“It was a sorry-you-got-cheated-on present,” Lafayette corrects. “He asked me what I thought you would like.”

“ _You_ helped pick out her sorry-you-got-cheated-on present?”

“Angelica! I thought you were on my side,” Eliza pouts. Angelica laughs and draws her into a one-armed hug.

“Face it, babe, that’s what it was. I’m impressed, Lafayette. This is incredibly tasteful.”

“Excuse you, I am always tasteful. I’m French.”

Eliza hesitates, looking concerned, and Alex loves her for it. He already knew she didn’t mean to be malicious; Eliza would never knowingly make another person uncomfortable. “If you really don’t want it you can put it back--”

“No he can’t! That’s not how it works!”

Eliza levels a glare at Mulligan, and that’s the other thing about Eliza. She may look soft, but underneath that is steel. If Alex was truly uncomfortable, nothing on this earth would stop her from making it right, and certainly not Mulligan’s halfhearted whining.

“Alex,” she says, gentle, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. We can swap gifts if you want, since Mulligan here feels so strongly about the rules.”

Alex smiles at her. He is perhaps a little uncomfortable; it’s never fun to be reminded of the worst thing he’s ever done. But upsetting Eliza, or making her think she upset him, would feel even worse, so he smiles and shakes his head. “It’s alright. I’m going to put it in our kitchen so Washington sees it the next time he visits.”

“Washington visits your house?” Angelica says, and the conversation shifts to a much safer topic. Alex breathes a sigh of relief, and he’s fairly certain Eliza does too. They will have to talk about it someday, probably soon, but at least for now they can pretend it never happened.

“Of course he does,” Lafayette says imperiously. “I live there.”

“You know he does come to see us sometimes as well,” John grumbles. He eyes the dwindling pile of presents as if he’s trying to decide on one, but it’s for show. He turns to Mulligan with a put-upon sigh and says, “alright, Hercules. I suppose I’ll take that off your hands.”

Mulligan hands him the stack of papers, making a face. “I’ll let that slide for now because I’m grateful, but don’t think I won’t get you back.”

“I do something for you out of the goodness of my heart--”

Eliza laughs. John glares at her. “ _Out of the goodness of my heart--”_

“You can’t fool us. You have been coveting that since Mulligan opened it,” Lafayette says.

John, inexplicably, flushes. Alex’s heart does a funny double-beat. “Coveting? Really?” John says, all false scorn. It’s an obvious deflection, but Alex doesn’t know what for and it seems like everyone else does, given the way they’re all grinning. He hates not knowing things.

“What good is having a language with so many words if you can’t use them all?”

“Come on, John, tell us why you really took it,” Eliza goads, and so it can’t mean what Alex is hoping it means. He and Eliza are friendly, but he knows she’s still hurting and he can’t imagine she would be so gleeful if John really liked him.

John shakes his head in what looks like pretend exasperation and says, “well when I’m in France I won’t have the pleasure of editing Alex’s novels, so I figured I’d take one with me. Maybe I’ll edit it on the side and turn it into something actually readable.”

“They’re not novels, they’re essays,” Alex protests. It’s an old argument and everyone else is laughing at him, but it’s easier to fall into old patterns than to think too hard about John leaving. “And this one was readable, it was just kind of…”

“Delirious?” Lafayette offers.

“Maybe a little.”

“Well I think it’s lovely,” John declares, “and I will sleep with it under my pillow every night we’re apart.”

Alex’s heart does that double-beat thing again. He knows it’s a joke, but even just the thought is enough to make him blush. Mulligan laughs at him, and Alex summons up the emotional fortitude to bat his eyelashes and simper, “but John, what shall I sleep with while you’re away?”

“I’ll find something,” John says absently. “Alright, Mulligan. I did you a favor, now pick.” Alex blinks. Mulligan reaches for a new gift, but Alex isn’t paying attention. John sounded so sincere and matter-of-fact, like he took it for granted that Alex would want a keepsake to remember him by. Strange.

It still can’t mean what Alex wants it to mean, but it’s nice.

Mulligan picks a bag of saltwater taffy from Ellie and they make disgustingly adorable faces at each other for the rest of the exchange, or at least for the part of the exchange Alex notices. He is vaguely aware of a struggle between Ellie and Adrienne in which Ellie emerges victorious, holding the stuffed cat and declaring it to be “rightfully mine since my boyfriend made it,” and of Adrienne’s groan when she opens a present that turns out to just be a loaf of French bread, but for the most part he stares vacantly at the dwindling present pile and thinks.

He can’t keep avoiding John like this; it’s hurting both of them. Alex is used to this kind of ache, but hurting John is something he actively avoids in his everyday life, and knowing that he is, in this instance, the cause of that hurt is crushing.

Talking to him isn’t an option, though, experience has proven that. Alex will just have to get better at lying.

The party ends with John’s last-minute Top Ramen gift, which Lafayette accepts with dignity and the pronouncement that he will “enjoy sampling this new American food,” which is a bald-faced lie.  People are milling around, gathering coats and, in Adrienne’s case, trying to surreptitiously leave their presents behind, when Eliza beckons Alex into the hallway.

“Is there someplace private we can talk?” she says. “Actually, never mind. Let’s just go to your room.”

“Eliza, how scandalous-” Alex starts, but Eliza’s glare quiets him.

“Don’t.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Eliza leads him into his room and shuts the door behind her, and Alex is briefly reminded of countless other times she’s done this under different circumstances. His chest hurts unbearably for just a second, and then he blinks again and she is there, just a concerned friend. A concerned friend whose trust he betrayed and almost destroyed their friendship, but still a friend.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Did the wine cooler upset you?”

“It was fine.”

“Did it upset John?”

“You’d have to ask him,” Alex says carefully. He doesn’t know what Eliza is trying to do, and that worries him. Eliza is dangerous when she sets her mind to something.

“I didn’t mean to remind him about us,” she says.

“I’m sure it was fine.”

Alex will never, if he can help it, burden Eliza with his romantic problems. He told himself that when they broke up, and so far he has stuck to it. He knows that she’s still in love with him, and he refuses to rub it in by complaining about his hopeless crush.

He should have figured that Eliza is too stubborn for that.

“You need to talk to him,” she says. Alex jumps and looks at her guiltily. “Please, you’re incredibly transparent. I think he’s the only person who doesn’t know.”

“I don’t- I’m sorry,” Alex says.

“For what?”

“For- I don’t know, for everything. For being so pathetic when you obviously still-”

Eliza closes her eyes, looking pained. “Let’s not. Please? Not when you’re struggling with this too.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” She opens her eyes again, and the momentary weakness he saw there is gone, like she never meant for him to see it. “What are you going to do about John?”

“I’m going to tell him.”

“Really? Because I’ve talked with Mulligan and Lafayette and they seem to think you’re doing a great job of avoiding him at all costs.”

“I’m going to,” Alex insists. “It just hasn’t been the right time.”

“Right.” Eliza sounds disbelieving, and Alex can’t blame her. It’s true that his actions in the past week have been uncharacteristic, and he doesn’t quite understand them himself. “Well at least tell him you’re not mad at him, then? It’s hard to watch you both being so stubbornly miserable.”

“Why would I be mad at him?”

Eliza makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t know, ask him!” Her voice softens and she looks at Alex with something close to pity. “Don’t let him leave for France thinking you’re angry.”

Alex sighs. “Yeah, okay. But what if he-”

“Just talk to him, okay?”

Eliza leaves him sitting on his bed feeling like a total asshole, which is actually how he has ended a lot of his conversations with Eliza in the past six months, now that he thinks about it. She’s right, though. At the very least he owes John this.

* * *

“Where were you?” John asks when Alex emerges from his room. “We cleaned everything without you,” he adds, with a hint of reproach.

“Eliza cornered me to talk about you,” Alex admits. He figures he ought to just bite the bullet and get it over with. Like ripping off a band-aid.

John stills, holding an armful of assorted wrapping materials. “…oh?”

Now would be the time to say it. They’re alone, and John is leaving in five days, and _now is the time_.

“She thinks you think I’m mad at you for leaving,” Alex says. He grimaces. It’s okay; there’s still more time in this conversation.

John laughs, but it sounds fake. “Oh. I don’t, don’t worry. You’re not, right?”

“No! Of course not.”

Now is the time.

“Is that why you’ve been weird around me? Because I’m leaving?” John shifts the wrapping paper in his arms and looks at Alex, expectant.

“Yes.” But that’s not all, come on, say it.

“Oh,” John says. He looks disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says in a rush. “It’s my problem and I let it get in the way of the last weeks we have together, but I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

John blinks at him. “Oh, well- okay, that’s great.” He makes a face. “Don’t say ‘last weeks,’ though. You make it sound like one of us is going to die.”

“It kind of feels like that, sometimes,” Alex admits. His eyes go wide at about the same time John’s do, and he resists the urge to clap his hands over his mouth like a child. He’s said too much and made it awkward again. “Never mind.”

“Wait, no, Alex what-” John says, but Alex has already taken the wrapping paper from him and is headed outside for the recycle bin. It is absolutely running away and Alex is absolutely not proud of it, but staying for what would inevitably be an excruciatingly painful conversation is out of the question, so running away it is. “At least take the plastic bag out before you recycle it!” John calls after him.

* * *

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you, stop worrying about it and focus on our presentation,” Aaron Burr snaps, setting down his tablet to glare at Alex. “I wanted to meet yesterday and we rescheduled for your party, so at least try to pay attention now that we’re here.”

Alex momentarily stops pacing to glare back. Being stuck doing a final presentation for _judicial politics_ , of all things, with Aaron Burr is not Alex’s idea of a good time, but at least the constant low-level annoyance he feels around Aaron these days is enough to temporarily distract him from thinking about John. Or at least he thought it was.

“We’ll be fine, Aaron. You just do your slippery politician thing where you talk for ten minutes and say nothing at all, and we’ll get a good grade.” Alex can’t help snapping back, even though he made an early new years’ resolution to be the bigger person.

“What is your problem?” Aaron asks. “Is it about John Laurens?  Because honestly-”

“What about John Laurens?” Alex says, instantly on alert. It’s bad enough that all of his friends apparently know how he feels, but if _Aaron Burr_ knows, he’s fucked.

“I don’t know, whatever you’ve done to make him walk around looking like a kicked puppy all the time,” Aaron says. Alex is simultaneously relieved and horrified. Relieved, because that means Aaron doesn’t know about the massive clusterfuck that is Alex’s crush on John, but horrified because if John looks like a kicked puppy, that’s Alex’s fault.

“That’s none of your business. How’s Theo?” he says, trying to turn the conversation in a direction that’s less uncomfortable – for him, though maybe not for Aaron, judging by his expression.

“She’s fine. Can we work on the presentation?”

Alex grins. At least someone is as miserable as him. “Nothing on that front, then? How soon do you leave?”

“Friday. Tomorrow,” Aaron grits out. As much as Alex hates the idea of having anything in common with Aaron, their mirrored romantic situations give him some ammunition to deflect Aaron’s probing questions. “Let’s get back to work.”

“I see you’ve talked to her,” Alex says, grinning.

Aaron rubs at his forehead and then drops his hands to the table in defeat. “No, I have not. Not all of us can be like you and just go for things without considering the consequences.”

“I consider the consequences,” Alex says, stunned. This is more emotion at once than he’s ever seen from Aaron in the two and a half years they’ve known each other.

Aaron laughs, shaking his head ruefully. “No, you don’t. You just blaze ahead and deal with the fallout when it happens, and I can’t do that.”

That’s not true, though. At least in this instance, Alex is much closer to Aaron than Aaron knows, because apparently they’re both cowards. Well, Aaron being a coward was never in question, but this time Alex is too.

“And yes, sometimes I wish I could get things done like you do, but there has to be someone thinking about things before we do them, and since you’re not going to the job always falls to me,” Aaron continues. “So no, I haven’t talked to Theo. Are you happy?”

“I’m- wow, I’m sorry,” Alex says. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Aaron sighs again. “No, you shouldn’t have. Let’s just work.”

Alex tries to work, but all he can think about is Aaron Burr being jealous of him for the way he gets things done and the way he isn’t afraid to face the consequences of his actions, and he feels like an idiot. He’s been avoiding this conversation with John for weeks now, and for what? So he can compare himself unfavorably to Aaron Burr?

He makes it through the rest of their prep session in a daze. The presentation will be fine and they don’t really need this time to work on it, but Aaron worries about academics too much and for once Alex is willing to humor him. He doesn’t think he contributed much, but Aaron doesn’t call him out on it, and when they finally pack up their things and return the study room key to the front desk, Aaron turns to him and says, “good luck with whatever it is you have going on with John.”

“Good luck to you too,” Alex says, feeling generous – and maybe a little sad. Aaron has been a constant in his life, even if he’s annoying, and it will be strange not having him around. “With Theo, I mean. Have a good time in England.”

“Thanks.”

They both stand there in front of the circulation desk, unsure of where to go from there, until Alex says, “see you, then.”

“Yeah. Have a good semester.”

“Yeah.”

After another moment of silence, Alex gives an awkward wave and exits through the security scanners, headed for home.

* * *

Alex doesn’t sleep well and he stumbles through his Judicial Politics presentation, but Aaron picks up the slack so hopefully their grade won’t suffer. They don’t talk after the final, but Alex still returns home with Aaron’s words from the day before in his head. This is his last chance.

John is lying on the couch in the living room when Alex gets back, watching Netflix. “How was your final?” he asks.

Alex shrugs. “It was fine. Aaron did most of the talking.”

“Really? That’s generous of you.”

“Are you packed?” Alex says, changing the subject. He’s going to talk to John; he promised himself he would, but he doesn’t want to start that conversation off by talking about Aaron Burr’s surprising advice.

John drops his head back onto the arm of the couch and groans. “No. I’m hoping if I leave it alone it’ll pack itself.”

“I can help,” Alex offers.

John looks up at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. You’ve just been- never mind. I’d love help.”

They move to John’s room in silence and Alex starts pulling things out of drawers and closets, depositing them on John’s bed.

“We should talk,” he says, staring unseeingly at a pile of jackets. “I’m sorry I’ve been weird.”

“It’s fine,” John says, but he won’t look at Alex. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

“I’m sorry I’m leaving. I know-”

“I don’t think you do,” Alex interrupts. “You know what Aaron said to me yesterday?

John starts at the change of subject. “Something pretentious?”

“Well, yes, but he said he hasn’t talked to Theo.”

“Wow, really? He’s been trying to ask her out for what, two months now?”” John says, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “He’d better get on that.”

“Two and a half, probably. The thing is,” Alex takes a breath. He can do this. He can blaze ahead and damn the consequences. “He said he wished he could be more like me.”

“That’s unexpected.”

“Yeah, but he was wrong. Or- something. I haven’t been acting like me.”

“I mean that’s true, but what does that have to do with Aaron?” John says. There’s a strange sort of hope in his eyes that Alex can’t let himself think about, because if he thinks about it he’ll chicken out again.

“Normally I would have just said it ages ago, but I was so afraid of ruining things and then whenever I talked to you I would say something embarrassing and mess everything up because I was trying and it wasn’t working so I just stopped, but then you seemed upset and I didn’t know how to fix that because I didn’t know how to talk to you without making a food of myself but at the same time I couldn’t-”

“What exactly did you want to talk to me about?” John asks, sounding amused. “Not that I don’t appreciate the return of the old verbose Alex, but we are on a schedule here.”

“That’s the thing,” Alex says. “I was freaking out because of this deadline because I didn’t want to do it over facetime-”

John laughs. “Alex. Just tell me what it is.”

“I like you. I like you a lot and you’re going to leave for France and find a hot French guy and you’ll forget all about me and I’ll have missed my chance to tell you, except I just told you right now and so now maybe you won’t find a French guy, or maybe you will just to spite me, but you wouldn’t do that because you’re my friend, of course you wouldn’t. Um. I like you. Is what I’m trying to say.”

“Well that’s- you thought I was going to find a French boyfriend?”

Alex frowns. “Yes? That’s not really the point of that confession.”

“It kind of is,” John says. “Why would I find a French boyfriend unless it was to get over you?”

“Get over…?”

“Sorry, let me say that plainly. I like you too.”

“Oh.” A slow grin slips over Alex’s face. “Oh.”

John grins back, and it’s infectious and soon they’re both laughing. “How long were you agonizing over this?”

“Longer than I should have been.”

John tugs Alex to sit next to him on the bed. Alex lets himself be tugged, presses close against John. If anyone asks, it’s because the mattress is old and sags in the middle. That’s why. “You’re right, that’s not like you.”

“It’s your fault,” Alex insists.

“Of course it is,” John says indulgently. “I wish you’d told me sooner. You realize we only have one day to do anything as a couple, right? I mean- would you like to date? I should have said that first.”

Alex laughs again, giddy. “I would love to date. And yeah, I know. That’s really the only reason I told you today.”

“It wasn’t the stirring inspirational words of Aaron Burr?” John teases, but his eyes flick down towards Alex’s mouth and suddenly Alex can’t breathe anymore.

“Aaron Burr is such a bonerkill you don’t even know,” he says, barely even aware he’s saying it. Their faces are very close together.

“I’ll stop talking about him then,” John says. His eyes are flickering over Alex’s face, settling on his lips and then back up to his eyes again.

Alex smiles at him. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

“I- that is, I wasn’t sure if I- can I?” John says, and it’s practically a whisper.

“Please,” Alex says, and then John’s lips are on his, soft and insistent, and his hand clutches at Alex’s hip like he’s afraid to let go. He keeps it chaste, even when Alex tries to deepen it, and Alex pulls away with a frustrated huff. “What’s the matter?”

“We have to pack.”

“We can speed-pack later.”

John shakes his head. “This is going to sound stupid, but I don’t want to do too much because otherwise I’ll be torturing myself remembering it the entire time I’m in France.”

“You’re right, that does sound stupid,” Alex agrees. “But okay.” He’s lived without John’s kisses for his entire life; he can wait until May.

John presses another quick kiss to his lips and stands up. “It’s your fault, you know. If you’d have told me sooner we could have been doing this weeks ago.”

“Hey!”

“I’m mostly kidding,” John says. “But you know what this means?”

“What?”

“Sexting,” John says. He pauses. “Actually, no, since you’re involved it’ll probably just be erotic novels.”

Alex swats him with one of the jackets, laughing. Everything is going to be fine; everything is going to be more than fine. “I’m perfectly capable of writing short things.”

“The essay I currently have under my pillow would disagree,” John says. Alex gapes at him.

“You weren’t serious?”

“Of course not,” John says, rolling his eyes. “But if you wrote me erotic novels I might.”

Alex grins at him. “Well, I could try.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone was wondering, Angelica, Aaron Burr and James Madison are going to England and John and Thomas Jefferson are going to France because they did go to those places at some point during their lives.


End file.
